


Nightcap

by 8bitbites



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 02:26:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5230364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8bitbites/pseuds/8bitbites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's late at night in the RED base, and everyone is asleep after a long days work... Well, almost all of them.<br/>An Engineer/Reader smutty one-shot I wrote out of boredom. This is my first time ever posting my writing, so I hope you guys enjoy it! (18+)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightcap

(RED BASE) 0400 HOURS

The night was still, and silent. The only sounds to be heard were your own footsteps lightly padding against the cold floor of the RED base beneath you. You even elected to wear socks this time, too! But the cold floor insisted on sucking the warmth straight out of your toes as you walked down the long hallways. Your destination? The kitchen, of course. You had woken up with a dry throat and a parched mouth only moments ago, so you trudged along, wanting to hurry so you could get back to the warmth of your bedspread and journey once more into dreamland.  
You nearly trip in the darkness two or three times, but you manage to make it there seemingly without awaking any of your team mates... You grab a bottle of water from the fridge, chugging its contents then and there, wiggling your toes to keep them from freezing to the tile. You part the empty bottle from your lips with a soft sigh. Much better.

After disposing of the garbage, you start your trek back to your room-- Though a noise from around the opposite corner of the hall made you pause... Everyone should be in bed by now... Who could be up this late?  
You feel a cold chill shoot up your spine... It couldn't be a Spy, could it? Both teams were on ceasfire for the weekend... BLU team wouldn't violate a ceasfire, would they? You really wish you had brought your gun. Creeping along the hallway, you push yourself against the cool surface of the wall, peering slowly around the corner... A light flooded the dark hallway, your eyes squinting from the bright light. That was Engie's workshop... Was he still up?  
You straighten from the corner, relaxed now that the likelihood that it was a spy lowered. (You admit to yourself that you're a little on edge after today's day on the field...) You quietly creep along down the cold hall. His door was open a crack... so you peered inside. Sure enough, there he was, working on something, scribbling on a piece of blue paper while tinkering with a sentry... His hat was discarded off to the edge of the table, along with his yellow glove. Through the open crack in the door, you get a small glance at his Gunslinger. You've seen it a few times, of course, but you don't like to pry when it comes to Engie's personal business. He must keep it covered up for a reason, you suppose. It moved smoothly, almost as if it were a REAL hand... Dell sure was some kind of genius to have invented his own working prosthetic. Though that was apparent also in his other works: the sentries, dispensers and teleportation machines... But it was a weekend-- the guy should be sleeping, not working!

You slip inside, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The Engineer turns his head and spots you, giving a tired grin at a familiar face entering his workshop.  
"Well now, what're you doin' out of bed?" He questions in a gruff, tired voice. Tired it may be, but that drawl still held that sweetness to it, that tender genuine concern and warmth that drew you to him the first time he gave you a "Howdy."

"I could ask you the same thing. What are you still doing up, Dell? Do you know what time it is?" You ask, folding your arms as you lean against the door frame. He was lucky you all had the day off tomorrow... He would be in no shape to fight in the morning after being up so late.  
"Just doin' a little work, is all, darlin'."  
"It's almost four in the morning, Dell. Your work can't wait until later?" You ask, a bit concerned.  
"Aw shucks, you know me. Once I start, I just can't stop 'til I'm through." He admits, still scribbling away at his blueprint.  
"Dell." You say in a stern voice, putting your hands on your hips. "If this place doesn't kill you, overworking yourself will."  
"I promise I'll head to bed soon. Don't you worry your pretty lil' head 'bout me."  
You didn't believe him. If you left now, he'd probably be up until the sun was high in the sky. ...You figure it's for his own good that you do something about it.

"Dell." You repeat, in a softer tone this time. You reach behind you for the lock to the door and twist it, taking a few steps towards the table he was hunched over. You put your hands on his broad shoulders, feeling the tense muscles there relax a bit as you rub your thumbs into them. (He wasn't much taller than you, so it wasn't like you had to stretch much to reach them.) Dell gave a relaxed hum, pausing in his work as you rubbed out the knots in his neck and back. He probably hadn't changed positions since he started working!

"Mmm... Darlin'..." He sighed, melting into your touch. You grinned, satisfied once you saw him finally put his tools down. Once he was relaxed enough, you pressed your body close to him, your lips leaving gentle kisses against the back and crook of his neck. His head lulled to the side, giving you more room to press your lips carefully to his skin. A faint smell of cologne lingered on his neck, which made you inhale deep as you kissed behind his ear, squeezing your arms around him tight.  
"Alright, alright..." He chuckles, finally giving in. "You got me. I'll pack up for the night." He shifted, but you held your grip firm around his body. He gave a bit of a confused hum, to which you answered by slowly trailing your hands down his chest and towards his stomach. His confused hum changed into a mischievous chuckle. "Oh, I see."  
You respond by grabbing at the front of his pants, your body flushing hot as Dell's breath hitched in his throat.

"Ahh... Hah..." Dell bit his lip, his eyes lulling shut as you worked him up. Artificial phalanges grabbed at the workshop table in front of him, while his other hand moved to cover his mouth as he held back a few moans of excitement. You growl playfully in his ear, moving your body off of him so he could turn and face you.  
His cheeks were bright scarlet, and his bottom lip was caught between his teeth. You admire your handiwork, ghosting the tips of your fingers against the bulge that was now pressing firmly through the Engineers well-worn overalls. He hisses through his teeth, and his hips arch up towards your touch. You give him what he's asking for, and cup the bulge between his legs again, pressing your palm against it. He turns his head away and gives a shuddery breath, his knees buckling-- his hands grab the edge of the workshop table for balance, and you step closer to close off the space between the two of you.  
Dell's face is red hot, and his breathing has become short, desperate pants. Your lips are back on his neck, easily distracting him while you unclasp the overalls around his shoulders. The garment slips down past his knees, the buckles clattering against the cold floor beneath you. His hand is in your hair, running through it dangerously lovingly while his body trembles and begs for more of your touch. Your kisses move from his neck up to his jaw, then, to his chin, his cheek, and his lips respectively. Your eyes meet-- though his were obscured by dark, protective goggles.  
You carefully lift up the goggles, and slip them off of his face-- grinning a bit at the imprint they left on his skin as you discard them next to his yellow hard hat left abandoned on the workshop table. He gives you that sickeningly sweet smile of his and you can't help an involuntary smile from stretching across your own face as well. You two share another kiss, and your thigh slips between his, pressing firm against the bulge still apparent behind a pair of snug boxer briefs. He groans, low and gentle in your ear. He buries his face in your neck, panting slightly as his hips rut desperately against your thigh, begging.

You waste no time in pulling him out of the undergarments confining him. His erection is warm and thick in your hand, throbbing eagerly between your fingers. His knees quiver and shake as you eagerly stroke him from tip to base, your mouth pressing firmly to his. He whimpers in the back of his throat, and you sigh against his lips. His tired eyes lull shut, your mouth pressing sweet kisses against his, then down his neck again as he groans your name. Your fingers squeeze at the base of his erection, and he gives out a low moan, his brow furrowing. Your thumb runs in circles along the swollen head of his erection until it drives him crazy. His hands grab at your shoulders and give a squeeze, his mouth hanging open in a silent moan.  
"Dell..." You sigh.  
His breath hitches, and a strangled moan fills the silent room as he climaxes. His eyes are hazy, and lulled, but they look at you lovingly. You return the gaze, only breaking it to see him handing you an old rag to clean your hand up with. You give a bit of a laugh and take it graciously.  
You suggest that he takes a break from work for the rest of the weekend.  
He wholeheartedly agrees.


End file.
